My Heart Beats For You
by tori-92536
Summary: Brooke is moving across the country tomorrow. What will happen when she meets someone unexpected at a basketball game?
1. Chapter 1

My Heart Beats For You-_Chapter 1_

**Hey, I'm gonna begin a new story called "My Heart Beats For You". MHBFY for short. Yes, it's song lyrics, but I don't really care. I couldn't find a good name. (: I really don't like typing all that out. So, if you see MHBFY, I mean "My Heart Beats For You". I don't own Stuyvesant High School, Le Bernardin, the Statue of Liberty, The Cheesecake Factory, the New York Knicks, the Miami Heat, Madison Square Garden, or Taylor Lautner. The only thing I own is the plot, Brooke, Luke, and their mom and dad. Here we go...**

(Brooke's POV)

I detest basketball. I hate it, with a passion.

You're probably thinking, _why?_ Well, that's just it. I have no idea why. I hate watching it, I hate playing it, I hate everything about it.

Enough about basketball, let me tell you about myself. My name is Brooke; I'm an ordinary 17-year-old, and I'm turning eighteen in November. I have brownish-blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm sort of short. I get made fun of a lot for that. I play soccer, so my legs are kind of muscular. I have good grades; if I didn't, my parents would kill me. I'm a senior at Stuyvesant High School in New York. Well, not for long…

We're moving tomorrow. The last few days have consisted of packing, cleaning, packing, and doing things we want to do in New York before we leave. Oh, and more packing. I never knew we had so much stuff.

My mom, my dad, my 15-year-old brother, Luke, and I all picked one thing we want to do before we move. Luke wanted to go to Le Bernardin, a super expensive seafood restaurant. Of course. We had never been there. It was really good, even though we spent over $150.

Mom wanted to go visit the Statue of Liberty and walk up to the top. Did you know there were around 350 stairs in that thing? I'm never walking up those stairs again. I felt like my legs were going to fall off.

I wanted to go to the Cheesecake Factory. We ordered dinner, and I ordered a brownie sundae cheesecake. Best thing ever. It was so good. It had a cherry, and I tied the stem in a knot with my tongue after I ate the cherry. They say if you can do that then you're a good kisser. Oh well.

Dad wanted to go to a New York Knicks game against the Heat. Of course he picked that, since I hate basketball and he hates me. Just kidding, he doesn't really hate me. I'm a daddy's girl. I'm closer to him than I am to my mom.

That's enough about me and my family. Let's get to the story.

My mom, my dad, my brother, and I are on our way to Madison Square Garden to see the Knicks play the Heat before we move tomorrow.

I have my iPod ear buds in, blocking out the world. I really don't want to go to this game. I would rather stay home, laying on my bed and listening to music. But no, we had to pack up my laptop and bed today. We all have to sleep on blow-up mattresses tonight. We're leaving at 5:00 AM tomorrow morning.

Luke elbows me in my ribs. I jerk my ear buds out of my ears. "What?" I nearly scream at him.

"Calm down, God. I was just going to tell you that we're here," he says, acting hurt.

"Whatever," I mumble, winding my ear buds around my iPod and putting it in my coat pocket.

We walk into the arena quickly, trying to get to our seats as fast as we could. It is almost time for the game to start. Of course we got floor seats; my dad wouldn't settle for anything else for our last day in New York.

We have no idea how to get to the floor seats, so we go to the customer service desk and ask. They ask to see our tickets and we show them all four. "Cody, show these lovely people to the floor seats, will you?" the lady at the desk yells.

A boy about nineteen comes out of a door behind the desk. "Yes ma'am," Cody says.

He's a good-looking boy. He's about 6'1" and has the whitest smile I have ever seen. He has jet-black hair and blue eyes; a great combination if you ask me. I get a good look of his toned arms as he jumps over the counter.

"Cody!" the lady scolds.

"Sorry ma'am, it's quicker and more fun than the other way," he says, flashing her a brilliant smile.

He starts walking and we follow closely behind. I had taken my iPod out of my pocket and put only one ear bud in, just in case anybody wanted to talk to me. I was closest to Cody, so when he says, "So have you guys and girls been to a Knicks game before?" I was the one to answer.

"Yeah, we have, but we've never gotten floor seats. We decided to get them this time because we're moving across the country tomorrow," I respond.

"Oh, dang. Where are you moving to?" he inquires, dropping back a few feet to talk to me.

"Some house in Los Angeles," I reply. I don't know what it was with my parents and big cities; they just like them for some reason.

"Oh, that sucks. How come?" he asks. Gosh, what was with all these questions?

"My dad's job," I say. I want to keep the answers short and sweet. I'm not in the mood for all these questions.

"Oh," he says, sounding disappointed.

By that time, we had reached the entrance to the floor seats. "Alright, here you are," Cody says.

"Thank you," my dad responds, shaking his hand.

We walk through the entrance and start down the row of seats. I look down at my ticket that says my seat is number 32. I count the seats until I get to my seat and sit down. Taking my iPod out and putting it in my pocket, I look at the clock. Two minutes until the game starts. Great. Let the torture begin.

I look to my left to see a man sitting there. He has jet-black hair like Cody, but his is perfectly spiked up. His skin is flawlessly tanned.

I feel like I have seen him before, but I can't figure out where. School? No, he looks too old to still be in school. Oh well, he was hot. He doesn't look like he'd be too old for me to date or anything once I turn eighteen.

The game finally starts and at the end of the first quarter it is 23-25. The Heat is winning. They are doing some lame show that they always do at the end of every quarter when some guy with a camera comes over to the man sitting beside me and sticks it pretty much all up in his face.

"Excuse me," the announcer says. "We have a very special guest here today. One of the stars from the Twilight Saga movies: Taylor Lautner!"

I look up at the big screen to see the smiling face of the man that is sitting beside me. No way. _No fucking way_. This isn't real. Oh my God. I'm sitting beside Taylor Lautner!

Luke nudges me and says, "Brooke, that's Taylor fucking Lautner!"

Yeah, my brother cusses around me. I don't really care; I do it too.

"I know! I'm sitting beside him!" I almost scream. I didn't want Taylor to hear me. He might think I'm some kind of crazy fan girl.

I decide to stay calm. It's not like the world famous Taylor Lautner is going to give me time out of his day. Whatever.

The game had started again by then, and the Knicks have scored a three pointer. That puts them in the lead.

The point guard for the Heat has the ball and the guy who was guarding him slaps it out of his hand. The next thing I know, the ball is hurtling toward my face.

I curl up into the fetal position so the ball won't hurt me. I hear a slap that sounds like skin hitting a basketball, actually, but I know that the ball hasn't hit me. I look up to see Taylor throwing the ball to the referee.

"You owe me; I saved your life," Taylor says, giving me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.

"Hubbanackadoo," is all I can get out. Hubbanackadoo? What the fuck? He probably thinks I'm retarded now. Way to go, Brooke.

He laughs. "Can you speak?"

I smile. "Of course I can. I was just surprised to talked to me, that's all."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't think a famous actor like you would give me the time of day."

"I care a lot about my fans."

"What if I'm not a fan?"

"Well then, I guess I can't talk to you." He sticks his tongue out at me like a little kid.

"Fine." I turn my back to him. Apparently that makes him believe that I was serious.

"You know I was just kidding, right?" he asks, leaning towards me.

"Of course!" I reply, laughing. "I was kidding too."

"Good. I thought you were being for real."

"No, I was not being 'for real'." I say, teasing him.

I take my phone out because I feel it vibrate. I look at it and I have a text from my best friend, Tasha. She is as torn up as I am about me moving, so she decides to text me every minute of the day. I open the text and it said, _Hey, girl. How's the game? (;_

_Pretty good. You'll never guess who I'm sitting beside!_ I reply.

"Oh, I guess your friends are more important than me," Taylor says, acting hurt.

"Cocky much?" I tease.

"Mean much?"

"No, actually I'm nice. You just get on my nerves." I stick my tongue out. My turn to be the little kid.

He smiles. About that time, the Knicks steal the ball and he turns his attention back to the game for a little while. I get another text. _Who? Luke? :p_ it reads.

_No, you'll never guess it, so I'm gonna have to tell you. Taylor Lautner!_ I text.

A few minutes later I get a text back. _You're lying. Prove it._

"Hey, Taylor. Will you take a picture with me so I can prove to my friend that you're beside me?" I ask, tapping Taylor on the shoulder.

He laughs. "Sure," he says. "Let's make it a good one."

I hold my phone up so we can take the picture. "Smile pretty," I say. He slides his arm around my waist. _Don't have a heart attack, don't have a heart attack._ I smile and take the picture. I look at it. Taylor has his head turned towards me and his tongue sticking out like he's going to lick me.

"Nice smile," I state, laughing.

"Let me see!" he says, grabbing my phone.

Taylor looks at the picture and then puts my phone in his pocket. "Taylor! Give it back! I was texting somebody!" I yell, slapping him on the arm and laughing.

"Okay, okay. Hold on. Let me do something," he responds. He turns so I can't see my phone screen.

"Are you looking through my texts?" I accuse.

"Nah, I'm not like that."

"Good."

About thirty seconds later he gives me my phone back. "Finally!" I say, and send the picture to Tasha. I can't wait until she sees it.

Just to make sure, I check my pictures and texts to see if Taylor did anything to them. Nothing. _Hmm. Contacts? Surely he wouldn't have put his number in here, but it won't hurt to check, _I think. I go to my contacts and scroll down to the letter T. There it is. In plain view. _Taylor Lautner is AWESOME!_ the contact says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, thanks for reading! And don't forget, review! :) You don't have to be a member to review, it can be anonymous. Thanks again for reading! Remember, the only thing I own is the plot, Brooke, Luke, and their mom and dad.**

(Taylor's POV)

Should I have put my number in that girl's phone? For all I know, she could be a crazy fan girl. But as I watch her, she seems normal. I'm pretty sure if she is a crazy fan she would have jumped all over me when she first saw me. But she didn't.

It comes to me that I don't even even know this girl's name. "Um, what's your name? I just figured out I didn't know it," I ask.

"Brooke," she says, her eyes sparkling.

Damn, this girl is beautiful. Excuse my language, but she is. Too bad she lives in New York and I live in L.A. I'm not too good at long distance relationships. "Do you live around here?" I ask.

"Yeah, for now. We're moving in the morning."

"To where?"

"Los Angeles."

"Seriously? That's where I live!"

"Really? Awesome!"

"Yeah, when you get to your new house text me and I'll help you guys move in if I'm not busy," I say, winking.

"All right," she says.

She quickly pulls her phone out of her pocket, looks at it, and giggles quietly. She holds the phone up to my face so I can see it.

_From: BFF3 _

_Message: NO. FUCKING. WAY. You really are sitting next to Taylor Lautner!_

I laugh. "Who's 'BFF'?" I ask.

"Tasha. She's been my best friend since, like, fourth grade. She's hilarious," Brooke answers.

"Sounds like it. When we hang out in L.A., I want to get on the phone with her," I say, laughing.

"Who said I wanted to hang out with you?" Mmmm, I love feisty girls… Wait, that was an awkward thought. Disregard that.

"I can tell, sweetheart," I say. That was a little flirty… Oh well.

"Who said I was your sweetheart?" she asks, laughing.

"Me," I tease.

There is one last whistle and the buzzer sounds. The game is over. The Heat wins. "Dang, well I guess I have to go," Brooke says, getting up.

"Okay," I say. "Text me when you get home or something."

"All right." She turns around.

"No hug?" I ask.

She turns around smiling. "Of course. How could I forget to give Mr. Lautner a hug?"

I pull her in for the best hug I've ever had. Her head fits perfectly into my toned chest, and it's like my hands are made for her waist.

After what seems like an hour, she finally pulls away.

"Oh, what's your number? I'm gonna put it in my phone so when you text me I'll know who it is," I say.

She tells me her number and I put my phone back in my jacket pocket. "Okay, well, I better get going. See you in L.A.," she says.

She turns around and walks towards the exit of the floor seats. I can't help but look at her butt…it's weird, I know. But I can't help it. She's just so beautiful…and so is her ass. Wink, wink.

I turn around and walk towards the other exit with my friend Josh. He's a childhood friend I had before I became famous. Too bad I didn't talk to him for half the game. "Who was that girl, bro? She was fine!" he says enthusiastically.

"Brooke," I say. I don't really want to tell him a lot; he's the kind to try to steal your girlfriend or the one you're crushing on, y'know?

"Damn, did you get her number? I want to hang out with her, ya feel me?" Josh says, putting air quotes around "hang out".

"No, I didn't," I lie.

"Well fuck."

"Yeah."

We walk out to the limo that brought us to the game with fans starting to swarm around me. Josh and I hop in the car so fast that our speed throws us both to the opposite side.

"Those girls are crazy, man," Josh says.

"Yeah, they really are. They're worse in L.A., though." I answer, sliding back to my seat.

"To tell you the truth, I would love to have all them girls chasin' me."

"It's not as cool as you think. Half of them are ugly girls who obsess over Twilight…sorry to be mean but it's true."

"Damn, Taylor, you're supposed to love your fans."

"Don't get me wrong, I do, but they can get kind of annoying."

"Yeah, I got you," Josh says, smoothing out his leather jacket. "So when are you leaving for L.A. tomorrow?"

"Around seven," I answer. I can't wait to help Brooke and her family unpack…if she texts me, that is.

"All right, bro. I'll see you next time you come up here," Josh says as we pull up to his house. We do our little handshake thing, and he gets out and closes the door.

"Where to, Mr. Lautner?" my chauffeur, Justin says.

"Just take me back to the hotel. I'm so tired and I have to get up early in the morning," I say.

Justin starts driving and my phone vibrates. Please let it be Brooke, please let it be Brooke…

I unlock my phone and check the text.

_From: Taylor Swift_

_Message: Hey sexy boy. (; What's up?_

Geez, this girl will not leave me alone.

_To: Taylor Swift _

_Message: Taylor, I told you, I do not want to get back together with you. We can be friends, whatever, but please stop calling me "sexy boy" and all that other crap._

Taylor hasn't stopped texting me since we broke up. It's really annoying, because I've tried to let her down easy. Obviously she's not a very good hint-taker.

My phone vibrates again.

_From: Taylor Swift _

_Message: But I'm just speaking the truth. (; What if I want to get back together with you?_

_To: Taylor Swift _

_Message: It doesn't really matter because I'm not getting back together with you. You cheated on me, Taylor. I thank the good lord that the press didn't get a hold of that story, but it really hurt me. I'm not going to let that happen again, sorry._

Yeah, she cheated on me with Carter Jenkins. She met him on the set of Valentine's Day, too. Don't ask me how she managed to pull that one off.

_From: Taylor Swift _

_Message: Taylor, you know I've changed. It's been three fucking years. You're done filming Abduction, so you have time for a girlfriend. I'm not on tour, I have time for a boyfriend. So why won't you take me back?_

_To: Taylor Swift _

_Message: It's not that I don't have time. I know you probably have changed. But would you date somebody that cheated on you again? I don't think so. That's why I'm not taking you back. So please stop texting me. Okay? Let's stay friends._

_From: Taylor Swift _

_Message: You know what, fuck you, Taylor Lautner. I never want to see or speak to you ever again. Stay out of my damn life. Bye._

Well, damn. Bipolar much?

Anyway, back to waiting on Brooke to text me.

Maybe I'll just text her… Yeah, that's what I'll do.

_To: Brooke _

_Message: Hey. :)_

_From: Brooke_

_Message: Hey. (:_

_To: Brooke_

_Message: What's up?_

_From: Brooke_

_Message: Packing, ughhh. :/_

_To: Brooke_

_Message: Awh, poor Brooke. ;) Lol. You want me to come and help? ;)_

_From: Brooke_

_Message: Nah, I'm a big girl. I got this. (;_

_To: Brooke_

_Message: Lol. All right. Well, we both have to get up pretty early to catch our planes, so I'm gonna hit the hay. Good night, sweet dreams. ;) See you tomorrow?_

_From: Brooke_

_Message: Sweet dreams to you, too. (: And yeah, I'll text you when we get to our house. (:_

_To: Brooke_

_Message: Don't worry, my dreams will be sweet because you'll be in them. ;)_

Wow, that last text was super flirty…

I've never felt this way about a girl that I just met before. Brooke is sexy, beautiful, funny, sweet, and she seems like she likes me. There's only one thing to do when this happens…

I call Nikki Reed when get back to my hotel room. She played Rosalie in the Twilight series. She's always been there for me to hear about my girl problems and I've listened to her boy problems. She's the one that helped me through me and Taylor's break-up. We're like brother and sister.

I lie down on the bed listening to the phone ring. I put the phone on speaker so I don't have to hold it up to my ear. Nikki answers.

"Taylor! Oh my God, I miss you!" she yells.

I chuckle quietly. "I miss you too, Nik."

"So, what have you been doing?" Nikki asks.

"Nothing. I just got back from a Knicks ball game." I say.

"Cool. How was it?"

"Pretty good. I wasn't watching it half the time… Which is actually why I called you."

"Oh, another girl, huh, Taylor?" I could see her smirking behind the phone.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Well, there are only two important things in your life. Basketball and girls. The only thing that could tear you away from basketball is a girl."

"That's true… But anyway, I can't tell whether she likes me or not. I got her number and we were texting. The texts seemed flirty to me, but I wasn't sure. So I called you."

"Can you read me the messages?"

"Yeah, hold on."

I read her the messages and she sits in silence for about thirty seconds. "I would say she likes you, but I'm not completely sure. That's the way I would act if I liked a guy, but some girls are different," she says, finally.

"Oh, well, thanks for the help, Nik. I'm coming home tomorrow; you want to go out to eat dinner? I'm going over to that girl's house; her name is Brooke, by the way, and helping her unpack. She's moving to L.A.! Isn't that great? So maybe me, you, her, Rob, Kellan, Ashley, Kristen, and Jackson can go eat," I say. That was a mouthful.

"Yeah, sounds great, Tay. I can't wait to meet her!" she says enthusiastically.

"You'll love her. She's great," I say. "Well, it's bedtime for me. I have a plane to catch in the morning. See you tomorrow. 'Night."

"'Night, Tay."

I hang up my iPhone and put it on the charger. I quickly text Robert Pattinson (Edward in Twilight), Kristen Stewart (Bella), Kellan Lutz (Emmett), Ashley Greene (Alice), and Jackson Rathbone (Jasper). I tell them to text Nikki and have her tell them the details of dinner tomorrow.

I take off my shirt and jeans and lie down on my bed in just my underwear. I lay there thinking about my day for about half an hour, then finally drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.


End file.
